Page 20 of A Lucky Shot

“No. I want it in production. Now. We have some negotiating to do, of course, so now’s the time to tell me if there is anything I need to know about. People you’ve talked to about this. Anything before I can get moving.”

If Stephen could hear what Melanie was saying, he’d be screaming, say it!

He fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him and commanded his lungs to draw breath. He’d never let himself dream about what this could mean. A million things he wanted raced through his mind. Producer credit. Reversion rights if they didn’t end up making the movie. Points on the back end if they did. A say in casting …

“I want to direct.”

A long silence played out on the other end. “Josh,” Melanie’s cautious tone came through, “this is a big deal. I have someone in mind.”

His stomach roiled. If there was one thing he hated, it was negotiating.

“Melanie,” he said in a voice far more confident than he felt, “I know this story better than anyone. I know what it looks like, sounds like. I know what it fucking smells like. I can bring life to this like no one else. And I know what needs to change, and another director might miss it. Casual racism. Gender stereotypes that”—Fit your husband’s generation and not ours, he thought, but said—“modern audiences won’t respond well to.”

Good. Hit her in the target demographics.

He plowed ahead. “If you go with someone else, they’ll turn this into a blockbuster and ruin it. The fans will revolt over that more than a female lead, and you’ll lose the investment.”

That was it. Time to let her think. He gripped his biceps so hard his hand ached.

“I saw Oblivion.”

Josh ground his teeth together and said nothing.

Melanie sucked air through her teeth. “Why do you think it wasn’t the breakout film of the festival?”

A wrenching gripped his stomach. She was right, of course. He couldn’t even handle a short film with a four-figure budget, let alone a major motion picture. He’d be way over his head.

Then Cass’s words from the previous week floated to the front of his brain. The director saw the true essence of the story. They just need a team. She saw his work and believed in him.

“It didn’t break out because I needed help,” Josh said. “With a continuity coordinator, a decent electrical and grip team, and the rest of the crew, we’ve got this. Let me put together the design team and I’ll show you.”

A noisy exhalation buzzed the earpiece. “Fine. You’re directing, but I’m putting together the design team, and I’m going to be breathing down your neck the whole time. Now …”

The rest of her words blended together as he collapsed into his chair, listening numbly as she listed off casting ideas, locations, and a budget that pumped a dose of adrenaline straight into his veins.

Sweet holy hell.

He was directing Sirius Darker.

The week hammering through the script meant nothing had been done. His condo reeked of closed windows and unwashed laundry. He dropped his keys on the slim entryway table and surveyed the piles of dirty dishes. He’d take care of it, but not now. Tonight, he’d let himself relax. Stephen texted he’d be out that night, so he had the place to himself. Catch a new documentary on Netflix. Maybe order in. Or better yet …

He dropped onto his couch and scrolled his contacts. He still owed Emily a text, but he hadn’t seen Jessica in forever. Or maybe Aubrey had broken up with her boyfriend. His brow wrinkled. Did he even like Aubrey?

He switched to his messages, swiping down a few pages for the last message Cass had sent.

I’ll be thinking of you the next time I touch myself xoxo

Had she done it yet? Slide her fingers over her clit with his name on her lips?

His dick pulsed. Jesus, just thinking about her made him hard. It wasn’t too late. He could drop her a line. He lowered the fly of his jeans and stroked himself over his boxer briefs.

Hey beautiful, wyd

I’m not lucky enough you’re back in town, am I?

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back, firming his grip and giving himself a slow pump. The way she’d cupped his balls with a gentle tug when she’d taken him deep in her mouth, teasing him, edging him until he’d had to hold himself back from fucking her face into the wall behind her. How she’d rubbed his cock on her nipples as he came, then those panting whimpers as he licked her clean, her pussy tight and wet around his fingers.

Fuck, she’d taken everything he’d given her. Beyond hot. The phone buzzed beside him on the couch.

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